


The Care and Feeding of Celebrities

by Perkyandproud



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-25 22:26:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10773741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perkyandproud/pseuds/Perkyandproud
Summary: Written for an Arashi Fan Fic Exchange, for An_Jung on LJ. She asked for Romance, Fluff, Drama and stated a preference for PG.I mined heavily from JE for random characters as well. Hope you enjoy the cameos.Celebrity Chef Aiba Masaki needs a new manager; he gets Sakurai Sho.





	The Care and Feeding of Celebrities

Nino drew himself up, steeling himself and putting on a smile, before opening the door to the hospital room where his best friend and number one client, Aiba Masaki, was resting. Once inside, he stopped trying to smile and actually did so for a moment as three nurses were stepping over each other trying to fluff Aiba’s pillow, smooth his sheets, and offer him water. Nino was surprised they hadn’t drenched him yet. The doctor, standing out of the way and apparently having given up on trying to talk to his flustered celebrity patient, turned when Nino entered. Nino had already spoken to the man on the phone earlier, so he politely, but firmly showed the nurses out before introducing himself in person.

“Ninomiya Kazunari,” he said with a bow, presenting his card to the doctor. “I’m the one you spoke to on the phone earlier, the owner of Ninomiya Entertainment, Aibasshi’s agency. Thank you for taking care of him.”

The doctor grew serious, accepting the card. “Someone needs to,” he said. “I am Joshima, his physician. As I mentioned in our conversation, it isn’t anything serious. Yet,” he added, pointedly. “But Aiba-san collapsed from exhaustion. He needs to make some changes to his lifestyle or it will lead to complications that will be serious.” 

Next to them, Aiba’s hands were plucking at the blanket covering his legs. Even without looking at his face, Nino knew Aiba was worried. He knew Aiba well, the other hated to be a bother, hated to make others worry. Nino hated it when Aiba wasn’t happy. He gave the doctor a hard nod of understanding. “Things most definitely will change, Joshima-sensei,” he said, his voice resolute. “First of all,” Nino addressed Aiba, “all of your engagements are on hold until you are well-rested and ready to return.” He had spent the majority of the last several hours personally arranging that, after all. “Second, you are getting a new manager.”

Aiba bit his lip and gave Nino a concerned look. “Is Watanabe-san okay?” he asked in a small voice.

“No,” Nino told him. He smiled tightly. “He’s out of a job, but he is no longer your concern, so please do not give him any further thought.” The other part of his time spent before coming here had been to do what he should have done some time ago; investigate the current activities of Aiba’s now former manager and fire the man with prejudice. 

When he’d gotten the call from an AD that Aiba had collapsed on set and had been rushed to the hospital, he’d quickly tracked down the other man, discovering many unsettling things in the process. It made Nino’s blood run cold that he’d trusted Aiba to someone who had taken advantage of his kind nature to such an extent. Watanabe’s reports to him had not mentioned any of the non-authorized signings, appearances, or for heaven’s sakes, the restaurant Aiba was in the process of setting up. Nino had set his lawyers on the contracts and to put a freeze on the other’s accounts until they’d had a chance to see to what extent Watanabe had been misusing his authority.

“Apparently what he’d been telling you about what I’d wanted and what he’d been telling me about what you were up to, were not the same,” Nino added, to try to soften the blow. “You know I would never jeopardize your health like this, Aiba.”

Aiba nodded, smiling a little. Nino was uncomfortable showing his concern, but now was not the time to be stingy with it. “I will find you a new manager, personally,” he promised. “But you will need to cut back on some of your commitments. What ever convinced you to start up a restaurant?”

“Watanabe-san,” Aiba said simply. “Oh, but I can’t not do it, Nino!” He leaned forward, his fully fluffed pillow sliding down the incline of the bed behind him. “I’ve already hired a staff. It opens in three weeks!”

Nino did not hit himself in the face with his hand, but he did press tightly against the pressure throbbing between his eyes. “Mm. The fact that I am just now finding out about this makes me very unhappy.” He took a deep breath and lifted his head again to smile at Aiba. “We’ll see what we can do. In the meantime, your job is to get better, okay? Leave the worrying to me for a while.” 

The doctor finally excused himself at this point, so Nino spent the remaining time before visitors were kicked out doing his best to cheer his best friend up again. Only for Aiba would Nino lose a game or three with such scenery eating drama, but at least it worked.  
***

Ohno Satoshi slid into the seat opposite Sakurai Sho. “How many beers have you had, Sho-chan?” he asked, the worry evident in his voice. There were only two glasses on the table, but with the several plates, Sho knew the other could tell the waiter had likely already cleared away some. Sho had arrived more than a little early, after all.

“Only four,” Sho told his friend and former client. One of many former clients now, he thought with a dark sigh. He frowned down at his hand which was betraying him by holding up five fingers. “Have a seat and I’ll order one for you,” he said, disregarding the fact that Ohno had already done so.

His friend, tanned and healthy looking, just shook his head with a slight smile. “Spending money on me is silly, Sho-chan,” he chided. “Why don’t I treat you?”

“Because you still have a job and I don’t?” Sho asked. His eyes widened as the shock of what he’d said hit him. “ I am so sorry, Satoshi, that was incredibly rude of me!” Maybe he should switch to barley tea for a while. He couldn’t believe he’d just done that to one of his oldest friends and supporters.

Ohno laughed, waving his hand in front of his face as though to brush away any perceived offense. “Actually, yes.” The other’s eyes softened as he looked at Sho. “I heard what happened. Want to talk about it?”

“No. Yes.” Sho stared into his empty glass. “I thought the kids liked me,” he said finally. “I tried to treat each one equally and fairly, regardless of their rankings in the popularity polls or their level of work. But...I…” The waiter set two beers on the table just then and Sho grabbed one like it was a lifeline. This was not a conversation for tea. “Apparently I wasn’t good enough. My boss said there had been multiple complaints, not directly from the boys, but from them through their mothers.” He sighed again; it still hurt, hearing that the young men he’d been with for the last two years thought so poorly of him. “Former boss.”

“Ah.” Ohno’s expression was as sorrowful as his tone. “I’d hire you back, Sho-chan, but you’d be bored to tears. Again.”

Despite himself Sho smiled. He’d loved working for the other, but Ohno could pick and choose his appearances now, so he spent long hours either fishing or painting. Not a good match for someone used to juggling the schedules of seven young men. “I appreciate the offer, Satoshi. Now...how about some karaoke?”  
***

Nino settled down in the seat next to Ohno who was thumbing through the script for the episode he was filming, probably looking for a clear spot he could doodle on between takes. Nino smirked as Ohno pulled out a pencil, proving him right. “How’s everything going, Oh-chan?” he asked as he pulled out his phone and tapped his game icon. People asked him why he, president of the company, personally managed one of his talents. Because managing Oh-chan was relaxing, and he really could use some relaxation right now.

“You hiring managers?” Ohno asked, out of the blue and totally killing Nino’s relaxation. 

Watching as his figure went through the death and respawning screens, Nino tried not to snap at his friend and high priced talent. “They do tend to have a high turnover rate sometimes, so yeah. Why? You get tired of fishing and looking for a part-time job?” he asked.

Really, he expected the laughter, just not how long it would last and that Oh-chan would be out of breath when he finally stopped. “No.” Ohno shook his head slightly, a smile still on his face, looking directly at Nino now. “But my old manager got “released”,” Nino smirked as Ohno made the air quotes, “from the agency he was working for, and is looking for a new job.”

“Why would I hire someone fired by another agency?” Nino didn’t hide his look of skepticism, even though he had heard Ohno speak of his old manager before. But seriously, no one was that good and got fired. “Why’d they can him, anyway?”

“According to management it was because he wasn’t able to keep up with the work anymore, and the talent complained about him,” Ohno said, looking back down at his sketch. “I suspect it has more to do with one of the talents’ mothers raising a stink over his treatment of her pride and joy.” He added a couple of lines to the figure he was working on. “Sho-chan treated them all as equals, after all.”

Nino shuddered. Stage mothers, as they were called, were the bane of his existence. He loved the enthusiasm and energy of the younger talents, but some of their parents he could definitely do without. “Who was he managing,” he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

“HUGME,” Ohno said, simply.

Nino’s eyebrows went up and he totally let the opportunity to misunderstand pass by. “HUGME? Wow, they’re a hot group, really moving up. He was one of their managers?” His estimation of Ohno’s Sho-chan went back up a notch.

Ohno shook his head, turning the script upside down so he could draw more lines. “No. He was their only manager. Since they debuted,” he clarified.

Nino reached out and covered the spot Ohno was trying to draw on. “That is a seven man group! They only had one manager? No wonder he couldn’t cope. What was the agency thinking?”

Making a grumpy face, Ohno moved the script out from under Nino’s hand. “Sho-chan coped just fine. He’s a wiz at making schedules. Plus he’s really nice. They’ll regret firing him, you’ll see.”

Good at scheduling. Nice. Nino felt those words and the stories he’d heard over the years go straight to his...well, where his soul would be if he hadn’t gotten a really good deal on it when he first got into this line of work. “You know Aiba-chan, right?” he asked Ohno.

“Of course, we’ve worked together in the past,” Ohno said. He looked up again, worry evident in his eyes. “How is he doing, by the way?” 

“He needs a new manager,” Nino said simply. “This Sho-chan. I can trust him? With Aiba? …’s money,” he added, trying to pretend he meant that all along. 

Ohno smiled his beautifc smile, that made him look like a cherub. “Absolutely.”  
***

“Sakurai Sho, huh?” The man behind the desk had a deceptively young and innocent face, schooled into a disapproving frown as he looked down at Sho’s resume. 

“Yes, sir,” Sho responded politely. He knew Ninomiya had already read his resume and checked his references or he wouldn’t even be there, but he was a top notch manager, dealing with the whims of a new boss was just one of his many talents. Provided Ninomiya actually hired him, of course.

Ninomiya frowned at him. “Oh-chan seems to think highly of you. Then again, you were fired from your last job. Tell me, Sakurai, why should I trust one of *my* precious talents to you?”

So Satoshi had said something. That explained why his interview was with the president of the company and not someone in HR. He tried to remember if Ohno had ever said anything specific about the man currently glaring at him. [Nino’s nice. A brat, at times, but nice.] Not helpful.

“I have never mismanaged a talent or group of talents, sir. I keep meticulous records of their schedules and budgets and work the same hours they do.” More actually, since he was the one usually picking them up to take them to their next appearance.

“I see.” Ninomiya put down the resume and steepled his fingers together in front of him, elbows on the arms of the chair. “I suppose you’re one of those who likes a lazy talent then? Works a couple of days, then takes off to go golfing or fishing?”

Sho suppressed a laugh, just barely. “No offense sir, but Ohno-san was a little too laid back for me. He does not need a full-time manager, never really did.” He refused to fidget, keeping his own fingers and hands relaxed on his knees as he basically begged for work from the president of one of the highest rated talent agencies in the country. The man in front of him was sharp, having poached Satoshi when his contract had come up at his former agency, after all.

“Hmph,” was Ninomiya’s only response to that. His fingers were slowly tapping together. He stared at Sho in silence for several minutes.

Sho could feel the sweat trickling down his back under his suit jacket, even in the air-conditioned room, but he refused to break. If he had one fault he was willing to admit to, he was stubborn. He remained silent as well, not turning away as he was judged. 

Finally Ninomiya smirked and leaned back in his chair. “Think you’re all that, huh? Fine. I’m going to give you a test. Here are the current commitments for one of my top talents. Arrange a schedule for him. And remember that he needs to eat and sleep occasionally.” The sarcasm was almost as thick as the sheaf of papers Ninomiya pulled from his desk drawer. It wasn’t a folder so much as a chunk of a ream of paper with a bit of manila attached with a rubber band as an afterthought. Sho’s eyebrows rose as he leaned forward to accept it with both hands.

“You have until 5pm tomorrow,” Ninomiya told him.

A glance at one of the top pages had Sho’s eyebrows going even higher. “Aiba Masaki?” he said, his voice squeaking slightly to his embarrassment. ‘One of’ did not describe either the man’s talent or his position in Ninomiya’s agency.

“Don’t get any weird ideas,” Ninomiya snapped. “This is just a test. And I remembered I have dinner plans tomorrow. Have it to me by 3pm.”

Sho agreed, of course, and tucked the papers into his briefcase. As tests go it would certainly allow him to show his organizing skills. Sho was a member of Aiba-san’s fan club, so he was already aware of the talent’s work on Cooking with Your Pets, the show where he and Shimura-san taught people to make food that you and your pet could eat; Aiba Manabu, where Aiba-san investigated food origins, best foods, and food related things, Sho loved the episodes where Aiba-san used the knife he’d made himself; and Aiba Cooks, where he and a celebrity guest make a meal together and they chat. Plus magazine shoots and commercials, the rumors of Aiba-san opening a new restaurant or getting another show, Sho used the excuse that he was in the industry to keep abreast of Aiba-san’s work. The interview with Ninomiya concluded, Sho stood up and bowed, and left to get started, itching both to do well on the test, and to get to see first hand what all the talented man was really involved in.  
***

Naturally Sho turned up at a quarter to two, printout in hand. Ninomiya had flipped through the pages, detailed down to the minutes with his eyebrow raised. 

Finally he had shaken his head and tossed the packet back on the table between them. Sho’s heart, which had fallen, almost stopped entirely as Ninomiya handed him a piece of paper. “You’ll never get him to follow that, but here is his room number at the hospital. He’ll be excited to get to go home early. Good luck.”

Half an hour later, Sho stood outside the hospital room where Aiba Masaki, Celebrity Chef, was recuperating. Had. Had recuperated. Now he was going home. With Sho. He pulled his shoulders back and took a deep breath. He was being silly. He’d worked with some of the biggest names in show biz and had bossed them around like they were, in some cases, naughty twelve-year olds. Just because he had a silly man crush on this one was no reason to behave unprofessionally he told himself. He drew a kanji on his hand, then swallowed it, before softly knocking on the door and letting himself in.

“Aiba-sama? I’m Sakurai Sho, your new manager. Nino….” he stopped mid-word as the most beautiful man he’d ever seen...prettiest?...most handsome? The pictures and television had actually not done Aiba Masaki justice. In person he was simply perfect, and he’d turned his head when Sho had walked into the room from where he’d been staring out the window, and met Sho’s eyes, stunning Sho into silence.

“Nino sent you?” Aiba-san asked, a happy smile spreading over his face. Struck breathless, Sho could only nod. It was as though the sun had come out from behind the clouds, dazzling him. 

Fortunately Aiba-san did not ask him a lot of questions as they gathered his stuff and Sho drove him home, which Sho later frowned about. The man did not seem to have a distrustful bone in his body, which was was likely why his last manager had taken such advantage of him, according to the rumors. Sho vowed that no one would do so again as long as he was responsible for Aiba-san.  
***

Masaki didn’t know what to make of his new manager. Not just the schedule that was so detailed that it made his head spin when he saw it, either. Sakurai-san was so very different from his old manager. The looks definitely, even the ADs were taking second and third looks at him, but in, well, every way possible.

His old manager, Watanabe-san, used to tell him where to be and when, but wouldn’t always bother to pick him up, preferring to meet him on the set. Masaki had to reschedule his dentist appointment three times because Watanabe-san said it wasn’t his job to keep track of personal stuff and would schedule things even on days Masaki was supposed to have free. 

Sakurai-san, on the other hand, was kind, not only making sure Masaki’s doctor visits were on the schedule, but offering to make the appointments himself; he was thoughtful, picking him up every single day, coffee in hand; and he was nice, even going so far as to take the back seats out of the company van and putting in an air mattress for when Masaki needed a nap. Aiba found that the scary schedule wasn’t so bad if he didn’t have to look at it. By day three he was able to relax and not stress about how busy he was, because, as Sakurai-san said, that was his job, not Masaki’s.

But, there was still that worry, the ghost of his old manager lingering in Masaki’s mind as he waited for the other shoe to drop...then Masaki found his new manager’s weakness and everything changed. 

It was between filming episodes of Aiba Cooks. Masaki was on his way back to the green room from using the bathroom when he found Sakurai-san eating a store-made bento. 

“You do realize this is a cooking show,” Masaki asking him, laughter bubbling up in his throat.

“Of course,” Sakurai-san responded stiffly. He was, as always, dressed impeccably in a suit and tie. “But the food is for tv.”

The laughter came out. “We’re filming three episodes today, Sakurai-san. We don’t throw it away, we all eat between each filming. The ADs take extras home in bento boxes they bring specifically for the purpose, even.” A thought occurred to him and he gave his manager a concerned look. “Or is my cooking not to your taste?”

Sakurai-san shook his head sharply, causing his bangs to fall over one eye, changing his look from slick and professional to adorably earnest. “I’ve always enjoyed your shows, Aiba-san. I watch them whenever I get a chance.”

Masaki felt warm whenever he met a fan; that he’d gotten Sakurai-chan to downgrade him from -sama finally added to his happy feeling. “You didn’t tell me you like to cook!” he said, smiling at his manager.

Sakurai-chan looked a little flustered, not meeting his eyes for once. He tried to sweep his hair back up, but it fell back immediately. “I...I could burn water, Aiba-san. I have no talent in the kitchen. I can barely cook rice.” He turned his tablet over in his hands, a nervous trait Masaki had never noticed in him before. “I’m like one of those people who watch sports but have no skill themselves, endlessly enthralled by watching someone else do what I can’t, performing miracles before my eyes.”

His smile widening to a happy grin, Masaki threw an arm around his manager’s shoulder. “They aren’t miracles, Sakurai-chan,” he said, ignoring the man’s start at the change in honorific. “It’s just art. Combining flavors together to make a harmonious whole...then eating it!”

“That makes sense then,” Sakurai-chan’s tone was rueful. “I can’t draw, either. I do like to eat, though,” he added, as if trying to make Masaki feel better.

“Glad to hear it,” Masaki said, squeezing Sakurai-chan’s shoulder for a moment, before letting him go and dragging him over to where the food from the last episode was sitting out. “Because we have two more shows to film today!”  
***

Ducking down to hide from his zealous fans again was getting rather tiring, Masaki thought. He used to be able to walk down the street in broad daylight without so much as a flicker of an eye his way. He leaned back against the wall and slid down until he was sitting on the ground and eyed his manager. His dressed-in-a-suit-look-I’m-someone’s-manager manager. Although he really did like the way his manager looked in his suits, this had to stop. “Sakurai-chan, we need to talk.”

Sakurai-chan looked up from his tablet, where he was undoubtedly already searching for alternative routes, one arm curled protectively around the bento Masaki had given him earlier. It made Masaki feel better knowing that he could give back something to the man who was making his life so much easier. Well, except for this one slight issue. “Now or at the studio?” Sakurai-chan asked him. Masaki deeply appreciated that his manager took him seriously. Even Nino didn’t always do that.

“I think now. It will be easier to make my point,” Masaki said after a moment of consideration.

Sakurai-chan closed the cover to the tablet and gave Masaki his complete attention, something Masaki was starting to appreciate. He wasn’t used to it yet, but he definitely appreciated it. “You look like a manager,” Masaki told him, waving a hand at how Sakurai-chan was dressed.

His manager blinked a couple of times, then wet his lips slightly. “I am a manager. Your manager,” Sakurai-chan said.

Really, he was like a little kitten, not sure where the string was that he’d been playing with had gone. Masaki found it very difficult to be strict with his pets, he should have realized his manager would be just as hard when he looked so cute when he did that. “Yes, Sho-chan, I know that, and you know that, and now it seems they know that,” Masaki said, waving a hand at the vastness of his fanbase. “You make me stand out like a sore thumb in that suit.”

Sho-chan got little lines between his eyes as he obviously tried to parse Masaki’s sentence. He’d seen Nino get those lines too, but his weren’t as cute, Masaki thought. He waited patiently for Sho-chan’s brain to come back online. 

“So what you are saying, Aiba-chan,” Sho-chan said, throwing in a new honorific as if testing Masaki, “is that my being dressed like this is what is causing your fans to recognize you?”

“Precisely!” Masaki grinned at him. Sho-chan was very quick on the uptake, plus he’d loosened up a bit on the honorific, both made Masaki very happy. “I think, from now on, we need to coordinate our wardrobes better. Save the suits for when you need to intimidate people on my behalf, that sort of thing.”

Sho-chan slowly nodded. “Ah.” He had a slightly glazed look in his eyes, Masaki hoped he wasn’t coming down with heat stroke. Yet another reason to ditch the suits, at least until the hot part of summer was over.  
****

Sho had never had a client like Aiba-chan before. Aiba-san. He sighed, even in his thoughts he couldn’t go back to the more proper address. Every morning he would get up, go over to Aiba-chan’s apartment to pick him up...where the other man would promptly feed him breakfast and correct any wardrobe errors he’d committed. Sho was starting to wonder how he’d managed to dress himself for so long. Perhaps others were also, he thought darkly for a moment. No. He surrounded himself with honest people. People who usually only saw him in a suit, though. 

Aiba-chan also made Sho a bento for lunch on days they weren’t filming one of his cooking shows. Sho wanted to protest. Really, he did. But they were so delicious and Aiba-chan made them so cute and he couldn’t resist them. Every day he would stand outside of the other’s apartment for a moment before ringing the bell, telling himself that today would be the day he said no. And every day it wasn’t.

And Nino wasn’t any...Ninomiya-san, Sho corrected himself in his head. Ninomiya-san wasn’t any help. He’d been quite up front with the company president about the bentos, feeling as though he were doing exactly as Watanabe had, taking advantage of Aiba-chan’s kind nature. But Nino had only laughed. “If he is cooking, he is happy. If cooking for you makes him happy, who am I to tell him to stop?” Nino...Ninomiya had asked. Sho really didn’t have an answer for that. 

But now he was going to have to break some bad news to his client. His happy, bubbly, enthusiastic client. Sho wasn’t certain how Aiba-chan would react to it. None of the other man’s reactions had been what he’d expected. 

“Aiba-chan?” The other was sitting in front of the mirror in the green room, reading a magazine. He turned his head to look at Sho directly. Aiba-chan was so unself-conscious that there might as well not have been a mirror in the room.

“Yes, Sho-chan?”

Aiba-chan was already sitting, so there went his opening line. Revising quickly, Sho took a seat next to him. “I have some good news and some, well, bad news.”

“Which do I want first, Sho-chan?” Aiba-chan asked him, smiling at him. Why must he keep doing that? Sho asked himself.

“The good or the bad will make no sense,” Sho told him. Aiba-chan nodded at him to continue, so he did. “The contractors say they will be done with the renovations to your new restaurant in less than a week.” It had taken them just over a month to take the almost finished space from Watanabe’s dream back to Aiba-chan’s, but having seen the fixed up place, it was time well spent, Sho felt. 

“Oh, that is good news!” Aiba said, his smile widening to a grin. “Then...we should be ready to open soon after, right?”

“You are going to need a head chef,” Sho told him, opting for the direct route of breaking the news to him. “I am so sorry, Aiba-chan. I have been trying and trying to figure out a way to work it into your schedule, but not without sacrificing your health. Or cutting back on your appearances, which would violate your current contracts.” He held his breath as the realization crept over the other man’s face.

“I can’t be the chef at my own restaurant?” Aiba-chan asked, making sure he understood Sho correctly. Sho nodded once. Aiba-chan bit his lower lip and sank back into his chair as he thought about it. Sho felt guilty. Aiba-san had really been looking forward to being just a regular chef, even if only for a little while. Sho didn’t think Aiba-chan was the type to turn violent, and he’d made sure there was a fresh box of tissue on the counter, but where in the spectrum Aiba-chan would fall, he didn’t know.

“Okay,” Aiba-chan said with a firm nod, looking up and directly into Sho’s eyes. There was steely resolve in that look, something Sho had sensed before in their negotiations, but this was the first time he’d seen it unadorned. Sho was impressed, even as he wondered what he was in for. “But I want to pick him. Or her,” Aiba continued. “My restaurant, my chef.”

“That…,” Sho thought quickly, shuffling around a couple of things mentally. They had a week, plus then they needed to post the job, so if he… “that can be arranged. Yes.” He returned Aiba-chan’s look with a smile of his own. “I will make it happen, Aiba-chan. Shall we sit down after filming tonight and work out what the ad should say?”

Aiba-chan smiled beautifully at him, agreeing. Sho blinked. He really never had a client like him before.  
***

Jun smoothed down the front of his white jacket. He’d made it to the final interview. Again. Now was the biggest hurdle however. Time and time again he’d gotten to this stage, only to be cruelly judged by his looks and not his food, losing out to lesser chefs. Admittedly, that was his opinion that they were lesser, but he’d tasted their food, it wasn’t as good as his.

He stopped tugging at the strings of his apron and eyed his offerings critically. Perfect. Not a crumb or a drop out of place and he knew he’d nailed the flavors. Why couldn’t he just have the waiters present it? That’s what they were there for. Too many times he’d lost his chance at a job either because the owner’s wife, sister, or daughter found him too appealing, or the owner simply felt that someone as attractive as he apparently was wouldn’t stick around. It had happened in Japan, France, and the US. 

He supposed he should be grateful for the compliment, but he just wanted to cook, dammit!

The doors opened in front of him and he pushed the trolley of food through the opening and into the dining room of what his friends assured him was the hottest new restaurant in Tokyo, or at least it would be once it opened. Jun hoped that meant the owner might have a more open mind. 

There were two men sitting at the sole dressed table in the empty space of the dining room. One, who looked like the owner of a business generating a lot of buzz in his sleek suit, was tapping on the tablet he was holding, paying no attention as Jun came into the room. He had darker hair, but not black, and normally would have drawn a room’s attention by his looks alone...except he was sitting next to a man simply dressed in jeans and a tee-shirt who was far and away the prettiest man Jun had ever seen. 

He came to a stop next to the table and bowed. “Matsumoto Jun, please take care of me,” he said as he straightened up. As he took the two bowls of soup off the trolley, the lighter haired casually dressed gorgeous man smiled at him, nearly making him spill them. 

“Hullo! I’m Aiba Masaki! This is my manager, Sakurai Sho,” so the suit wasn’t the owner, the pretty one was, Jun’s hopes rose as he realized he might not simply be dismissed as just a pretty face, “He’s here to judge your business skills he says, but he also loves food, so I wanted his opinion on the flavors as well.” His voice was slightly husky, but at the same time sweet and Jun remembered that Aiba was a Japanese celebrity. He’d been so focused on the job and the interview that he’d brushed that detail aside. He’d dealt with celebrities in France and the US, of course, so hadn’t deemed it important. He bet Aiba was very popular.

“Please, call me Jun,” he told the sunny man as the other took a sip of the soup.

“Mm, good flavor combination,” Aiba said. Jun watched as the other took a second spoonful then stared off into space, holding the spoon in front of his face. Jun suddenly wondered if his popularity was because people liked to watch him eat. He remembered to blink as Aiba took a third, then a fourth sip. “Nice flavor at the start, strong middle, doesn’t disappoint in the end. I like the complexity too, the flavors build nicely. What do you think, Sho-chan?”

The man in the suit was making appreciative noises as well, more than half-done with his bowl, however his comments were more along the lines of, “Yum!” and “So tasty!” Jun could see that Aiba brought him along to represent the common consumer’s opinion. ...Plus he too was a delight to watch eat. Jun wasn’t used to being the third prettiest in the room. It felt kind of like...hope.

After a cross-selection showcasing his range, they were finally at the dessert, which wasn’t something he as a chef would normally be making, but as head chef he would be ultimately responsible for that course as well. He smiled as he slid a simple gelato in front of the two men. He was proud of his work and his flavors, and Aiba’s critique and Sakurai’s enjoyment made him very happy. 

“Oh, you have such a nice smile, MatsuJun!” Aiba told him. For a moment he felt nervous again, but the other’s joie de vivre was impossible to deny and he smiled back. “Sho-chan! Do you think Nino would let me have him on one of my shows as a guest to promote the restaurant? Or would that be a conflict of interest?”

Sakurai shook his head and folded away his napkin, his spoon resting in the empty dish. “The restaurant is creating enough buzz that I think you can get away with it, Aiba-chan,” he said. Jun realized that was the first time he’d heard the other say more than a couple of words the entire meal. His voice was appealing in an entirely different way from Aiba’s. Why was he just a manager? “Besides, Nino can’t say no to you any more than I can,” Jun blinked at the honesty in Sakurai’s voice.

“You say no to me all the time,” Aiba said. Even knowing the two men for such a short time, Jun got the impression Aiba’s pout was mostly faked. It wasn’t that the other was a bad actor, but rather that it was at odds with his sunny disposition and felt somewhat off. Jun was relieved to see Aiba smile again almost immediately. “Let’s do it then!” He turned the full force of his smile on Jun. “Will three weeks be enough time to bring the team together and practice the menu? If you want to tweak anything, please let me know, I’m not adverse to creative input, I promise!”

Jun nodded, feeling rather stunned, then paused. “Wait...so...I got the job?” he asked, wanting to be sure. 

Sakurai laughed. “You did forget to mention that part, Aiba-chan. Go ahead and make it official so he can get to work.”

“Yes,” Aiba said with an even wider grin than before, “you got the job. Congratulations, MatsuJun!”  
****

“You wanted to see me, Aibasshi?” Nino asked, slouching down onto the couch next to his friend. “We’ve had dinner, which was delicious, thank you, and done all the pleasantries. You’ve annoyed me to no end by gushing about how fabulous your new head chef is, causing me to lose to you at Mario Kart, so enough avoidance, what’s up?” He poked his friend in the side, causing the taller man to squirm away from him, though Aiba did not drop the controller.

“Nino….am I boring?” Aiba asked after a moment more of watching turtle shells careen about on screen.

Nino raised his eyebrows, but refused to look away from the television. He was not going to lose a second time. “Yeah.” He shrugged and made his move past Aiba’s character. “We all are to people who don’t share our same interests though. Yes, power up! Hell, Aiba-chan, there are people who think I’m boring.” His character suddenly veered off course and off-screen, probably in a car crash too gruesome to show, and he waited patiently-ish for it to respawn. “Personally, anyone who finds me boring likely would bore me to death right back, so no great loss there.” Finally! He put pedal to the figurative metal to try to catch up again. “Why?”

With a sigh Aiba dropped his controller on the coffee table, not caring that it caused his racer to spin suddenly and wipe out Nino’s as well. “Sho-chan has my schedule planned down to the minute, which oddly gives me more free time than I’ve had in months. Like tonight.”

“But?” Nino prompted when Aiba paused after his statement. He paused the game, since Aiba’s head was obviously not in it just then. “Is he giving you a hard time?” His head snapped around to look at his top talent. “You aren’t late to anything are you? He’s doing his job properly?”

“He’s doing his job very properly,” Aiba said firmly. He turned on the couch so his back was to the arm and picked up a pillow, wedging it between his knees and chest so he could rest his chin on it as he talked. “I just worry that...that I’m not a challenge for him anymore. He used to manage seven guys at one time, Nino! Seven!” He shook his head and dropped his head to the pillow. “He’s going to get bored and wanna leave, Nino.”

Nino rolled his eyes and shifted to sit cross-legged, facing Aiba. “Look, just because he makes it look easy does not mean that your schedule has become any less of a complete and utter nightmare, Aibasshi. Weren’t you the one who told me the story of the swan that looks all serene and graceful gliding across the water, while under the surface its feet are going a million miles an hour? You’re the head, he’s the feet. And I am paying him enough to keep on paddling, trust me,” he said, making a grumpy face. Truth be told he wasn’t actually grumpy about it. Honest Sakurai was pricey, but he was costing Nino so much less in embezzled funds and even more in heartache over his friend’s health. Aiba was his happy bouncy self again. Except for tonight, of course.

“True,” Aiba acknowledged. “But he even left Ohno.”

“Oh-chan thinks fishing is a great way to spend twelve hours straight, Aibaka.” Nino said with exasperation. “You are not allowed to use him as an example of not-boring.”

Aiba giggled. Nino relaxed. “Tell you what, Aiba-chan. If it will make you feel better, I’ll have Sakurai sign a five year contract with the company. That way he can’t just walk away, okay?”

With a nod and a sunny smile, his best friend unfolded himself and picked the controller back up. “Deal!”  
***

Maruyama sat nervously in the cube at the Internet Cafe where he was meeting Nino. There was just something about the other man that made him all shy and uncomfortable, yet at the same time, he deeply admired everything Nino had accomplished and definitely wanted to get to know him better. He’d told this to one of his close friends once. The other had taken HOURS to stop giggling. Maruyama still didn’t find it funny.

One of these days he’d work up the courage to ask Nino if he could come work for his agency, but for now, he was Nino’s mole and as such, if he had important news, had access to Nino 24/7. It was something Maruyama had never taken lightly and even now he was second-guessing himself if this warranted calling the other out at this time of night. But Nino had asked him for information on Sakurai Sho before he hired him, and this did involve that person.

Before he could completely freak himself out overthinking things, the door to the cube finally slid open just wide enough for Nino’s slim body to slip through. Maruyama swallowed both his yell of surprise and his yell of joy, which caused him to start coughing. 

Nino gave him a look. “You sick?” At Maruyama’s frantic motion of no, he slumped down onto the tiny couch in the tiny cube and looked up at him. “What’s up? You asking for a meeting out of the blue isn’t normal.”

Swallowing his nervousness, Maruyama got to the point as not to waste Nino’s time. “That guy, Sakurai, who you asked for info on? He’s going to be approached to see if he’ll take his old job back. Knowing how management thinks, they’ll offer him 90% of his old pay, too, and not tell him why they want him back.” He paused then, confident that Nino would follow up.

“All right, Maru,” Nino said, to another his voice might sound condescending, but to Maruyama it was simply teasing, “why would they want back a guy they fired because his talent’s mother didn’t like him?”

“Talent’s last groupmate turned 20 and the group’s contract is up for renewal. Guess what they made part of the signing deal,” Maruyama said. He knew Nino wouldn’t have to guess. They wanted their manager back. The one that treated them as equals, as members of a group, not as a couple of hot talents and their backup singers. HUGME was more cohesive than people thought just going by the hype. They truly cared about each other; the way the management had treated them, however, now that they were old enough to have a say in matters, Maruyama had heard rumors that they weren’t going to put up with that anymore. From what they demanded in order to renew their contract, it wasn’t just a rumor. 

“Really now?” Nino murmured, a calculating gleam in his eye. He stood up and stepped to the door. “That makes things....interesting.” He turned and looked at Maruyama. “If you suddenly find yourself in need of a job, let me know.” With a little smirk and a wicked wink, he was out.

Maruyama collapsed in his chair. Working for Nino would kill him...but what a way to go.  
***

Masaki was so mad at Nino right now. Really. So mad. Not to mention almost ready to cry out of frustration and disappointment. Not that he would though, this was Nino’s shining moment, he wouldn’t spoil it for his friend. But after this, he was going to hide in his apartment and be miserable, for certain.

He was waiting with other members of the agency at the venue for the Welcome Party watching the video feed of HUGME’s live press conference, located in the same facility. 

On screen, Nino was saying, “As part of the deal, leaving their old agency, they cannot appear as a group or perform as HUGME for a year.” Flashes lit up the men on stage at this, looking for a reaction shot, but they were professionals, simply smiling back as though they hadn’t just committed career suicide.

Masaki could understand the questions that peppered Nino. Disappearing from the Public Eye for a year, they would lose fans by the droves, basically having to start back from scratch next year, amid naysayers who would claim the group just wasn’t as good anymore. 

Nino fielded the questions like the pro he was. “While the group as a whole might be on hiatus, each member will continue to be active in dramas, varieties, photo shoots, etc. Also, there is only an injunction against these three,” he waved at the three in the front of the others, “performing at all. The other four may perform concerts and put out music.” Of course the other agency allowed it, even Masaki knew they treated the other four like they were dedicated backup singers rather than equal members of the group. Which was why the group left. Once the only person there who considered them as one was fired, Nino had told him, they’d really lost faith in the agency. “We will use this year to wet the fans’ appetite and build a new and improved HUGME,” Nino said confidently.

There it was, the question Masaki desperately wanted answered himself. “Is it true they quit over a manager?” asked one reporter, his voice skeptical.

To the press’s surprise, as one, the group members nodded firmly. Flashes went off again. Nino smiled and gestured for the press to calm down so he could answer the question. “There are managers and then there are managers,” he said. Masaki was sure Nino had just confused tons of people, but Masaki knew exactly what he was talking about. Not all managers were equal. Most did their jobs competently, enthusiastically and well; a few, like Watanabe, schemed and plotted on their own behalf or in collusion with bad management, focused on things other than their clients’ wishes and well-being. Then there were managers like Sakurai Sho, who was a notch above, making sure his clients, the talent, were happy, healthy, and able to not just fulfill their obligations, but reach for their dreams. Masaki certainly hadn’t felt this happy in...well, quite some time. What with how well managed he was, he’d gone from hospitalized due to exhaustion to getting ready to debut his fourth variety show.

Now Nino was introducing Sho-chan to the press, explaining that the man had recently signed an exclusive contract with NE, and was Masaki’s manager.

“Does this mean he will be switching to managing them instead?” Masaki could have kissed that reporter; he wanted to know too. Not that he would though. In fact, right now he felt more like throwing up due to the stress. Nino hadn’t answered any of his calls since the negotiations had gone public a week ago.

“As part of the signing deal with NE, Sakurai Sho will be their senior manager, overseeing a hand picked team to help with the day to day details, but available for consultation and for specific occasions when they’d prefer his direct assistance,” Nino said. “However, he’s only one man and they will now have seven completely different, completely booked up schedules.” Masaki could have screamed. That didn’t answer his question. Although, he admitted to himself, it probably did. Sho-chan would be busy managing them, which meant he wouldn’t have time for Masaki.

The press conference wrapped up quickly after that, more cameras flashing as they all posed for pictures. Sho-chan looked like a talent himself in one of his suits, smiling dazzlingly into the cameras. Masaki just wanted to curl up in a corner somewhere and cry.

Instead, about a half hour later, he was standing with Ohno and most of the rest of NE’s talents and staff to welcome their newest members to the company. The event was not catered by Masaki himself this time, but by the head chef of his restaurant, MatsuJun. Masaki took a moment from his grief to be proud of his new friend and employee.

After the group introductions, Nino brought the seven young men over to meet Masaki and Ohno personally. Masaki smiled and shook their hands warmly, welcoming them.

“Aiba-chan here is the reason Sho-kun will need a team to keep track of you all,” Nino said to the new talents. “As I said during negotiations, the work he’s been doing with Aiba-chan is too important for me to let him be yours exclusively.” Masaki blinked as his new associates smiled, perhaps a bit ruefully in his opinion, and nodded in agreement. 

Accepting a drink from Sho-chan, Masaki asked Nino, “Wait, does this mean I get to keep Sho-chan?”

“You have to share his time, but yes,” Nino said. 

Masaki could have hugged the brat, but he somehow had a drink in his hand now. So instead he smiled, for real this time, and toasted his new kouhais.  
****

Sho watched with amusement as Aiba-chan overwhelmed his new kouhai with his genuine smile and kindness. Even though this was a party, he still had his tablet in hand for whenever Aiba-chan would toss over his shoulder, “Oh, Yokoo likes to cook, can we have him on ‘Aiba Cooks’?” or “Oh, you have pets? Sho-chan, Sho-chan, make sure they’re on Cooking with Your Pet! Ken-chan will love them!” and of course, “Oh! I have a new show coming up, ‘Gutto Food”! You could all be guests! Well, not all at once, obviously, but in pairs, perhaps. Please, Sho-chan?” Sho dutifully jotted down each idea, which in most cases were very similar to what Nino had tasked Sho with asking Aiba-chan if he’d be willing to do, so he would go ahead and just schedule those. 

One person, four shows plus other appearances, seven more people with all their appearances and a possible CD and concert for four of them. Sho knew people considered him insane for saying yes to that workload, but he really liked the young men who had been in his charge for two years...and of course he couldn’t bear to give up Aiba-chan. Not that that was ever in question; Nino was very firm on that detail, even as they had started the negotiations. It paid to have the hard-nosed and tight-fisted president of your company as your client’s best friend, he supposed. Not to mention Aiba-chan was simply one of the nicest, kindest, most giving people himself and no one ever wanted to make him sad. 

Sho just knew that there was no way he could give up those happy smiles that greeted him every morning. Even if Aiba-chan stopped giving him wardrobe advice, stopped making him breakfast every day, stopped feeding him bentos and leftovers from his shows, Sho would still be drawn to him. Losing access to that smile, that would be heartbreaking.

He motioned over another waiter and made sure all the men chatting together under his care had fresh drinks and plates of the delicious food that Jun had made for them. He sipped at his own drink as he eyed a particularly tasty seafood dish. 

Sho hoped he wouldn’t have to stay at the party too long, however. Aside from needing to update everyone’s schedule with Aiba-chan’s proposed changes, including that he was apparently taking them all shopping on Thursday...Sho put down his plate so he could add that note in quickly to lock down the time. He also needed to find at least four of his new-again charges permanent housing. Part of the backlash from biding their time until the last turned 20 and they could make their own decisions was that they had built up a need for space from their overly involved parents. With time and a little intervention from a manager who didn’t hold a grudge, those waters could be smoothed and fences mended, but for now, a change of venue was in order. He was certain Aiba-chan would want to help the young men get their new homes set up right too. He made a few notes on when to make Aiba available. 

Aiba-chan would bear watching, too, so he didn’t try to give any of them the shirt off his back. Not that Sho-chan was in any position to point fingers, though those had been loans and Aiba-chan hadn’t actually been wearing them when he offered them to Sho. Still, Aiba-chan’s kindness was both his greatest strength and his biggest weakness. Thankfully Sho was there to make sure no one took advantage of him anymore. 

“Sho-chan!” A piece of shellfish was being presented to him with a pair of chopsticks, pulling his mind back to the party at hand. “This is your favorite, right?” Aiba-chan asked, pressing it against his lips so he’d be forced to open up and eat it. 

“So good!” Sho said after chewing and swallowing the bite. Aiba-chan beamed as if he’d made the dish himself and fed him another piece. He should stop Aiba-chan, really he should, but it was his favorite and it was so well prepared he could only eat each piece with relish, his fingers tight on the cover of his tablet, his toes curling inside of his shoes. 

“Let the man eat by himself, Aibaka!” Nino said, coming up beside them. He then muttered something under his breath about wives, but if Aiba-chan heard him he didn’t let on. Sho, on the other hand, blushed to the roots of his hair. He managed to blush harder when Nino continued on a different topic. “By the way, Aibasshi, the reason I didn’t return your calls was because I had enough of this one,” he pointed his thumb at Sho, “constantly checking that I wasn’t going to separate the two of you; I really didn’t need it in stereo!”

Now it was Aiba-chan’s turn to blush. He really was even more adorable when he did that, Sho noted. “Nino! You could have just said something so I’d stop worrying!”

Nino shook his head. “Nope. What if you’d let the cat out of the bag? Negotiations were at a critical point, you know.”

“I can keep a secret!” Aiba-chan protested. “I’ve never told anyone about that time you did that thing, and then that other thing happened, after all.” Aiba-chan’s winks were something you had to witness to truly understand, Sho believed. He’d tried describing one in his journal and never could quite convey the true essence of it. 

“Stop that!” Nino protested, folding his arms close to his chest and looking away. “You look silly when you do that. And yes, I know exactly what you are talking about, and you’d better continue to keep it a secret!”

Aiba-chan laughed and flicked the little line between Nino’s eyes with his finger. “I won’t tell anyone, Nino, don’t worry.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Nino looked at Sho. “Get him out of here before he gets drunk and spills the beans, will you? If you want, you can stop in the kitchen for a to-go bag. Let that J guy know I said it was alright.”

“Yessir,” Sho acknowledged. He took Aiba-chan by the elbow and steered him away toward the kitchen door. “You don’t mind, do you, Aiba-chan?”

Aiba-chan shook his head. “Not if you’ll eat with me. We could watch a movie,” he offered. “I even have beer in my fridge.”

Sho smiled at that. “Sounds like a perfect plan, then.” He even still had a couple of sets of sweatpants at Aiba’s, so he wouldn’t have to curl up on the couch in his suit. 

Jun, of course, laughed at them when they got to the kitchen. “Here,” he said, pulling a good sized layered bento box from the industrial fridge. “I made it earlier, at Nino’s suggestion. Said he’d be sending you both home early to relax after the stress of the last week. Only one bento though...you two finally move in together?” he asked, arching a brow at them.

Aiba-chan turned as red as Sho felt. “What? No! We totally aren’t...although,” he stopped protesting abruptly, causing Sho to gape at him, “it would cut down on your transit time in the evenings and mornings, plus it would be easier for me to dress you and feed you breakfast,” Aiba-chan said thoughtfully.

Sho tried to protest, he really did, but he couldn’t think of a single argument against the idea. “Nino...would...object?” he finally offered.

“Nino would rent the truck to move your stuff,” Satoshi said, popping up out of nowhere. For such a laid back guy he was far too sneaky, in Sho’s opinion. “He’d probably sell it to the fans as you being there to monitor Aiba-chan’s health, what with him taking on more work and all. I’m surprised he didn’t suggest it himself. You know he cares about you,” Satoshi told Aiba-chan.

“Sh! It’s supposed to be a secret,” Aiba-chan said, smiling his biggest, happiest smile. Sho had no defense against that smile. He’d go and register his change of address with the city in the morning.


End file.
